Detours
by TheGirlWhoRemembers
Summary: Companion piece to The Path Not Taken. "Episode tags" to my version of Season 3. Latest update: Oxytocin, tag to 3.21, Mac to Murdoc. The night after her kidnapping, Mac and Beth take care of each other, share some comfort and make a promise or two. "I will defend you with everything I have." "I am not a woman who chooses easy or safe."
1. Turnabout

AN: A day early because I have time tonight but probably won't tomorrow. This one actually probably does make sense even if you haven't read _The Path Not Taken,_ but it's probably better if you have read it, *hint, hint*. Other episode tags I'm planning will not make much sense without having read that story, so the next instalment in this story probably won't make sense if you're not also reading _The Path Not Taken._

This chapter: Turnabout, tag to 3.05, Butterfly Bandages to Sutures.

* * *

 **MACGYVER'S RESIDENCE**

 **LA**

* * *

Mac grabbed a plate of fish tacos off the kitchen bench, along with a bowl of guacamole, shooting Bozer a grin as his roommate finished cooking dinner.

He walked towards the deck, passing Riley, who was laughing as she chatted with Billy on her phone. He caught a snatch of their conversation as he passed.

'…Miss you too, your mama's a hard taskmaster!'

'Who really likes you, so guess who has some vacation time coming up?'

Mac's grin widened as he stepped out onto the deck. Matty was sitting by the lit fire-pit, a beer in hand from Mac's self-opening, walking Esky, which was sitting beside her. Jack and Diane were standing up, leaning on the railing, and completely ignoring the spectacular view in favour of each other.

(Diane was telling Jack a story of some sort, and he was chortling. As Mac set down the tacos and guacamole on the folding table he'd brought out earlier, Diane leaned over and kissed Jack on the cheek, whispering something in his ear.)

Mac and Matty shared a soft, happy smile at that, before Mac headed back into the kitchen to pick up the second batch of Bozer's delicious fish tacos.

'That reminds me of something.'

* * *

Jack pointed at Mac as the blonde finished speaking with his half-eaten fish taco, shooting him a _look._

'Don't you dare, brother, don't you dare.'

Mac's mischievous smirk only widened.

'Last year, when we were in Kiev-'

Jack appealed to Matty.

'Come on, you gotta stop him, it's classified!'

Jack's boss just snorted and shot him a disbelieving look.

'You two went to Kiev chasing Mac's dad, on your own dime and your own time. It's not classified at all, Dalton.' She put her hands on her hips. 'And since when have you let _classified_ get in the way of a good story?'

(That was true; Jack _did_ tell stories from classified missions, just with the necessary classified details omitted.)

Diane smiled and leaned forward, a mischievous glint in her eyes that was identical to one that they saw so often in Riley's eyes.

'Oh, I _have_ to hear it now…'

Jack groaned and glanced at Riley and Bozer, hoping for some sympathy.

He got none, as Mac's smirk widened even more and he began to tell the story.

'Last year, we were eating pierogis in Kiev when…'

* * *

 _I'm not embellishing this story._

 _Scout's Honour._

 _Okay, okay, I know, I was kicked out of the Boy Scouts._

 _But, at least, unlike many people who use that phrase, I actually was a Boy Scout._

 _Besides, this story doesn't need any embellishing._

 _None at all._

* * *

Later that evening, Mac, Bozer and Riley did the dishes. Bozer washed, Riley dried, and Mac put the dishes away.

As he scrubbed, Bozer kept craning his neck in an attempt to get a glimpse of Jack and Diane out on the deck, which made Riley and Mac exchange a fond, exasperated glance.

(Neither of them were all that interested in spying on the older couple.)

(They were invested – Riley especially – in Jack and Diane's relationship, and they were very happy for them, but Riley had no desire to see her mom and the closest thing she had ever had to a real dad canoodling or _worse_ , and Mac respected Jack's privacy. Besides, there were some things about his partner that he did _not_ want to know. Or see.)

Whatever Bozer saw (they were decidedly not thinking about it) made him give a little whoop as Mac put a large ceramic platter away.

'Woo hoo! Who's awesome?' He pointed at himself with both hands. 'We are! Our master plan worked!'

Mac and Riley both raised an eyebrow at Bozer.

' _Our_ plan?'

(Riley did _not_ remember Bozer helping out. Sure, he'd been supportive, enthusiastically so, but _she_ was the one who'd invited her mom to Charades Night, and it'd been _Mac_ who'd convinced Jack that even if fairytale endings were nigh-impossible to have in their line of work, it was worth a shot anyway.)

'Our _plan?'_

(Mac wasn't aware that there'd been a plan.)

(At least, there definitely hadn't been a _Parent Trap-_ esque plan anyway.)

Matty, who'd been in the bathroom but had walked out just in time to hear Bozer's self-congratulations, strode up to the kitchen counter, sat down on a stool so as to be closer to eye level to Bozer, and stared at him, an eyebrow also quirked.

Bozer gulped and gestured to Riley, as if he was presenting her to an adoring crowd.

'Go Riley!'

* * *

AN: I know, I know, this seems mostly like pointless Team-as-Family fluff…which it is, but it _does_ serve some purpose for the overall story of _The Path Not Taken_ too! (It is probably just not clear to you guys right now – but tune in sometime over the next couple of weeks for the next episode, in which it becomes slightly clearer why I wrote this!)


	2. Hemoglobin

AN: This will make absolutely no sense if you haven't read _The Path Not Taken,_ I'm afraid. It's a day early because I'm stuck in the lab until late (about 9 pm) tonight, waiting for my bacteria to grow, and am sick of moving around little arrows on Powerpoint to make diagrams of operons!

* * *

 **PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

 **SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

As Mac and Alex walked out of the war room after debrief, Alex's phone chimed and he pulled it out, rolled his eyes affectionately, and started typing out a reply.

Mac glanced over at him, a brow quirked slightly in question.

'Dinner plans?'

Alex nodded.

'At Nick's favourite steakhouse. It's a place at the foot of Hills, great food, nice but not fancy.'

That rang a bell.

And coincidences were statistically inevitable, and Nick and Jack _did_ share an improbable number of character traits…

'Does the owner have a strange obsession with Bruce Willis?' Alex stared at him for a second and muttered something about how this was absurdly improbable. Mac smiled and shook his head (Bozer insisted that he was an improbability magnet, which was completely impossible, but Mac _did_ have to admit that a lot of highly improbable things _did_ happen in his life). 'I owe Jack a steak dinner…'

Alex smiled, completely genuinely.

'Combined family dinner?' His expression turned more wry, teasing. 'Are you sure you want Nick and Jack at the same table?'

Mac's expression, too, shifted to something wry and teasing.

'Maybe they'll just talk at each other and we can eat in peace.'

Alex snorted.

'Pigs will fly first.'

'Well, just let me go home and pick up my pig-carrying drone…'

* * *

A few minutes later, Mac and Alex both put their phones back in their pockets, Mac speaking as he pulled out a paperclip, which started to take the shape of a T-bone steak.

'It'll be a good family dinner.'

Alex nodded in agreement, pausing as the two of them walked past the lab, just outside the door. There was a soft look in his eyes, even though he was smirking.

'Well, family dinner with a plus one.' Then, he turned to Mac, his smirk widening, expression pointed. 'Or two. There's always room for a couple more in the family. And Nick _does_ say that Lil' Miss Morgan and Lil' Doc get along very well…'

Mac rolled his eyes, though there wasn't much heat in the gesture. For covert operatives, Phoenix agents were ridiculous gossips.

(Though, a little voice in his head pointed out, Nick _had_ been there the night he'd met Beth, and he _had_ been an uncharacteristically good patient for her, for a variety of reasons, up to and including the fact that he had a known weakness for beautiful, intelligent, spirited women like her…Mac told the voice to be quiet.)

Still, as Alex opened the door to the lab, Mac headed off towards the infirmary.

Poor Beth had dealt with Jack (grumpy, stuck-in-the-infirmary Jack) for hours and hours _and_ seen his butt; she deserved a steak dinner since she wasn't getting hazard pay, _and_ she was a friend and good company.

Alex pointed at him as the lab doors swished open.

'Remember my lessons, little brother!'

Mac rolled his eyes again.

 _I'm quite sure I'm terrible at flirting._

 _But, as Bozer's always telling me, you do you, bro._

 _Besides, the point's moot. I'm not flirting with her anyway._

* * *

Beth was kneeling on the floor of the infirmary, packing an assortment of trail mix and strawberry-flavoured, yoghurt-topped cereal bars into the medical kits that Phoenix agents were sent out with.

(Trail mix had topped the poll of what Phoenix agents wanted added to the med-kits. Strawberry-flavoured, yoghurt-topped cereal bars were the current runaway leader of the current poll regarding favourite cereal bar flavours, which was written on a whiteboard by the door of the infirmary in Beth's neat handwriting.)

She looked up at Mac, a little surprised (happily surprised, a not-so-quiet voice in his brain noted), when he walked in.

'I heard Jack's claiming that steak dinner tonight.'

News travelled very fast around the Phoenix.

Also, Jack, his phone in hand, had just limped past him, heading towards the locker room to get changed, waggling his eyebrows at Mac.

Mac smiled, crossed his arms, and leaned casually against the wall.

'He's pretty fond of instant gratification. Sometimes, Jack's just an overgrown kid.' Beth gave a snort of laughter, nodding wryly in agreement. 'And he owes you a steak dinner, so how about I buy you one tonight on his behalf?' He paused, as Beth's expression grew hesitant. 'Jill's coming.'

Hopefully, that'd put her at ease, since then she wouldn't feel like she was being a tenth wheel, since the two teams were essentially like two families.

However, she still looked very hesitant, until Dr Farnham, the Phoenix's oldest doctor, grandfatherly, but in a stern way, looked up from where he was inputting some numbers (they looked like blood pressure readings, from what Mac could see) into his tablet, and spoke encouragingly, as soft and gentle as Mac had ever seen him.

(He was, it'd turned out, the best friend of forty years of a Dr Chris Garcia, who'd mentored Beth during her time with MSF in Syria, which was how she'd wound up on the Phoenix's radar in the first place.)

'Go on, Beth. Have some fun.'

She looked up at the older doctor for a moment, seemingly thinking, then nodded and smiled, turning to Mac.

'It does really sound like fun.' He grinned. He couldn't help it. She was really good company, after all. 'When and where?'

* * *

 **JACK AND NICK'S FAVOURITE STEAKHOUSE**

 **LA**

* * *

'…And it was just ever-so-slightly pink on the inside, man, just a little bit pink!'

Jack reached out and clapped a hand on Nick's shoulder, commiserating.

'I'm sorry, brother. I'm sorry. And sorry for that poor cow, whose sacrifice was all in vain…'

(They were both in firm agreeance that a perfectly cooked steak should be practically mooing.)

Sitting on the other side of the table, across from Nick and Jack, Matty and Rowena conversed quietly, their heads close together, knowing little smiles on their faces.

Meanwhile, on Matty's other side, Bozer and May were exchanging makeup tips across the table, while Riley and Carter, seated next to Bozer and May respectively, were discussing a new program she'd written the week before, to get rid of the flaw in the Phoenix's security system that allowed it to be disabled with a cleverly-placed gum wrapper once and for all.

On Carter's other side, Alex leaned back in his chair, grinning very much like a man who'd impressed an attractive woman, telling Jill, who was sitting next to him, a story that was making her laugh, her cheeks pink.

Beth was sitting opposite Jill, observing the cheerful chaos around her, an amused, soft, even fond smile on her face, but sipping her water and looking very much like she felt out of place, even a little uncomfortable.

Mac, who was sitting opposite Alex and next to her, really, really didn't like that, so reached out and picked up the bread basket, offering her one of the wonderfully-soft dinner rolls.

'Read any good papers recently?'

The uncomfortable look disappeared, as he'd drawn her into what he'd noticed was a comfort zone of hers (being doctor-y was one, science was another).

(Some people might think it was weird. He didn't. Science was where he felt most comfortable, most confident, after all.)

Beth smiled a little wider, and reached out and took a roll, pulled it apart and buttered it lightly, before setting it down on her plate and seemingly forgetting about it.

'There was a very interesting one on new titanium alloys for medical implants that I came across the other day, I think you'll like it, I'll send you the DOI…'

* * *

Nick and Jack glanced down the other end of the table, where Jill was attempting to solve Alex's seven-by-seven Rubik's cube (and doing a really good job of it, too, as far as they could tell, and if that very impressed look on Alex's face as he watched was anything to go by), while Mac and Beth had their heads bent over a diagram scrawled on a paper napkin and seemed to be talking about prosthetic hands, a la Luke Skywalker's.

The two older men then exchanged very mischievous smirks.

Mac, Beth, Alex and Jill, who were all very distracted, didn't notice.

Bozer, Riley, Carter and May didn't notice either, as Carter and May were locked in a discussion ('That college boy ain't got nothing on me!' 'Oh, you wish Carter H. Justin, you wish!'), while Riley and Bozer exchanged a glance that clearly said _oh, God, the UST, so much UST…_

(Carter and May were almost as bad as Agents Tommy and Lisa from Thom E. Gemcity's _Deep Six_ series.)

However, Rowena and Matty, being Rowena and Matty, didn't miss those smirks.

They, too, exchanged a glance, keen to nip this in the bud.

(Jack and Nick would, of course, attempt to encourage their pseudo-surrogate sons' romantic endeavours.)

(Their encouragement, while it had the very best of intentions, was also not really wanted.)

(And, they thought, probably not necessary anyway.)

Rowena leaned over and whispered in Nick's ear, an eyebrow elegantly arched.

'If you don't want to sleep in the guest room tonight…'

He raised his hands.

'No plans, I swear, Ro!'

Matty simply shot Jack a _look._

He gulped and saluted quickly.

'Heard you loud and clear, ma'am.'

* * *

AN: I promise this will eventually stop being a receptacle for fluff, I do have more serious episode tags planned…

Still, I like writing fluff. Hopefully you guys like reading it?


	3. Houdini

AN: Fluff with not-very-much point. I really do swear that at some point, there will be serious episode tags…

As long as you know who Beth is, this will probably still make sense even if you haven't read _The Path Not Taken._ It is, however, probably funnier if you have.

* * *

 **A STOPPED, POWER-LESS ELEVATOR**

 **PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

 **SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

'…About four inches to the left, please, Mac…'

He obediently shifted four inches to the left so that the woman sitting on his shoulders could better reach the lock on the trapdoor in the ceiling of the elevator.

(The escape hatches on Phoenix elevators were lockable, both from the inside and the outside. Mac had decided that for the sake of this little experiment/challenge, it should be locked from the outside.)

Beth worked his Swiss Army knife into the lock, face screwing up a little in concentration, before lowering her arms.

'No luck?'

'No, I need something a little thinner…I assume you've got a paperclip?'

He gave a little smirk.

'Never leave home without a couple.' He paused, smirk growing more wry. 'Actually, never get out of bed without one. Or two.'

He lowered his right hand from where it'd been wrapped around her lower right thigh to help her keep her balance, leaving the left on her left leg, and grabbed a paperclip from his pocket and passed it to her. The shift in his shoulders disturbed her balance ever-so-slightly, making her clench her thighs around him briefly.

'Sorry…' He could hear her hands move above his head, re-shaping the paperclip, and then he felt the shift of her weight as she reached her hands above her head to work the paperclip into the lock. A minute later, she made a noise of triumph. 'Got it!'

She pushed the trapdoor open, then put his Swiss Army knife into the pocket of her scrubs and reached up again to grab onto the edge of the opening.

He lifted her up as best as he could to make it a little easier for her to push herself up and out of the elevator, mind already whirring as to how he could get himself out.

Beth wasn't strong enough to pull him up, and it was really physics anyway. She could have super-strength and it probably wouldn't work, him being substantially heavier than her and there not being anything in the correct position on the roof of the elevator for her to prevent herself from slipping anyway.

Once she was safely on the roof, she lay down on it (a wise decision), and he motioned for her to wiggle out of the way, then backed into the furthest corner, ran as fast as he could towards the other side, jumping up and pushing off the railing, and leapt up and grabbed hold of the sides of the trapdoor. He hauled himself up so he could brace his forearms on the outside of the roof, before taking a deep breath and pulling himself up.

Beth got up and offered him a hand to help him stand, and together, they quickly closed the trapdoor (not wanting to risk accidentally falling down it again), using a carefully-placed paperclip to prevent it from locking.

Then, Mac turned his attention to the sealed-shut elevator doors in front of them, thinking-face firmly on.

They were rated to withstand a small nuclear blast.

Getting them open would be no easy feat.

Wordlessly, Beth pulled his Swiss Army knife from her pocket and pressed it back into his hand.

* * *

 **EIGHT MINUTES LATER**

* * *

'Beth, have you got your hand lotion with you?' She nodded. 'How much is there? More than half the tube?'

She nodded again.

'It's a brand-new tube; I just opened it yesterday.'

She reached into her pocket and handed him the tube, which was just about full.

'Thanks.' Mac was just about to unscrew the lid, when something else seemed to hit him, and he turned back to her. 'How many bobby pins are in your hair?'

'Uh…' Beth's face screwed up in concentration again for a beat, as she recounted how many she'd put in to keep all of her hair off her face (little strands tended to escape no matter how tightly she tied her ponytail or where she positioned it). '…Five.'

'Great!' Mac sounded genuinely excited about that. 'Can I have them?'

She simply nodded, a fond, amused, even indulgent, smile on her face, pulling out her hair tie and slipping it onto her wrist, then starting to pull out the pins.

* * *

Mac pulled the right-hand-side elevator door open, a triumphant grin on his face, to reveal Jack, Matty, Bozer and Riley standing on the other side.

Matty pressed a button on the stopwatch she was holding, then looked at it, then back at Mac and Beth.

'26 minutes, 23 seconds. Impressive, Baby Einstein.' She paused, then her smile widened a bit. 'And Lil' Doc.'

Bozer pointed at Mac with a finger-gun.

'You're _awesome_ , bro!' He grinned at Beth. 'Oh, and so are you, of course!'

He held out a fist to each of them for a fist-bump.

Riley, who was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, grinned at both of them.

'Nice job, Mr Wizard, Harley Diaz.'

Jack snorted.

'Nah, you're losing your touch, man. 26 minutes? Really? That's _slow_!' Jack smirked and waggled his eyebrows, taking into account Mac's rumpled shirt (Beth had spent seven minutes sitting on his shoulders, after all) and her loose hair (her bobby pins were still jammed in the elevator's doors). 'Or did you take your time and-'

Jack was cut off with a yelp as Matty pinched him, hard. In the region of his posterior.

(To be fair, that _was_ where she could easily reach.)

Mac shot his partner a _look._

Thankfully, Beth missed most of this exchange (she didn't miss the yelp; Jack was loud as ever), since she was in conversation with Riley and Bozer about _Stuck in the Middle_ while tying her hair back up at the same time.

(Apparently, Bozer was a fan of the show, despite being a very much grown man, and was insisting that Disney Channel was entertainment for all ages.)

* * *

A few minutes later, as they all headed away from the elevator shaft, Mac and Jack at the rear of the group, Jack leaned over and socked his young partner none-too-gently in the arm.

'You, son, are _hopeless._ '

* * *

 _Yeah, I know. Jack might well be right._

 _I was stuck in an elevator with a beautiful and intelligent woman, and I tried to escape…and succeeded. With her help, of course._

 _In my defence, A, we're at work, and you know Beth takes professionalism very, very seriously. B, timing is everything, and, you know, there's something really nice about taking it slow. Given my romantic history, it's probably not surprising that I've got a newfound appreciation for that._

 _And honestly, between you and me…I probably am crazy._

* * *

AN: Yup, fluff. I warned you! Again, this is heavily inspired by the famous Tiva stuck-in-the-elevator scene from _NCIS._


	4. Souvenir

AN: Fluff. Both figurative and literal, as you'll see! This really won't make any sense if you haven't read _The Path Not Taken_ 's latest episode/chapter.

A touch early, as I've had a tough couple of days and figured sharing some fluff might make me feel better!

* * *

 **QUEEN VICTORIA MARKET**

 **MELBOURNE**

 **AUSTRALIA**

* * *

As Jack posed in front of a slightly-smudged mirror provided by the proprietor of the leather goods stand, constantly adjusting a _Crocodile Dundee_ -style Akubra hat, watched by Cage, who had her arms crossed and an eyebrow arched, a teasing little smile on her face, and Bozer held up an array of leather jackets to his rather long-suffering, but obliging and chuckling best friend's torso with great enthusiasm, Riley's eyes were caught by a sturdy brown leather belt with a subtle but intricate pattern worked on it. The design was simple but beautiful, full of circles and swirls, and called to mind Australian Indigenous art.

She picked it up, rubbing the leather gently between her fingers.

Billy would _love_ this.

He was the romantic one in their relationship.

(He sent her flowers sometimes, just because, because he'd been raised right by his mama to show a woman proper appreciation and respect. He sent her trinkets that he'd picked up on his jobs, things that he'd seen and thought of her – an awesome necklace of metal beads, a silky, vibrantly-printed robe, a leather and macramé keychain that was somehow edgy, a seriously awesome motherboard…)

But that didn't mean she couldn't do some romance too.

(Even Mac, a little socially awkward and with an unfortunate tendency to put his foot in it despite his best efforts – she was never going to let him forget Shanghai when he'd somehow made things worse between her and Jack while trying to make it better – could do romance, albeit old-fashioned romance-novel-style with a touch of MacGyver weirdness sprinkled in.)

(That was probably the product of being raised by a combination of the world's most unromantic man – seriously, Riley was positive that James MacGyver didn't have a romantic bone in his body, as much as it was clear that he'd really loved Mac's mom…somehow – and his grandfather, whom all accounts suggested was an old-fashioned gentleman-type.)

She held out a $50 note to the leather goods seller.

* * *

Jack held up the elegant, simple opal necklace, watching the small stone catch the light, shining in greys and silvers and greens and blues.

He nodded in satisfaction, and Riley pulled her gaze away from where Bozer was doing the salesman's job for him and trying to talk his BFF into buying an opal necklace (Cage – who was watching in amusement and occasionally chipping in with some light teasing – would rescue Mac if he _really_ needed it), smiling up at Jack.

'Mom will love it.'

Jack reached out and pulled her into a side-hug with a grin.

* * *

For some reason, Australians considered sheepskin cushion covers in the shape of various Australian animals (a local species of penguin, koalas and of course, sheep – there were far more sheep than people in the country, so Mac figured they counted, like longhorns were associated with Texas) to be acceptable and even popular souvenirs.

He found his eye caught by some adorable-looking two-toned sheep (they had white woolly bodies and black tails and faces complete with an eye) cushion covers.

'Buy one. She'll love it.'

He quirked an eyebrow at Cage (if it were anyone else, he'd say something along the lines of _you've never even met her,_ but she _was_ Cage), smiling sheepishly at the same time.

(It probably looked weird.)

He reached out and started inspecting the various sheep.

* * *

 **ONE WEEK LATER**

 **BOZER'S CAR**

 **ON-ROUTE TO MACGYVER'S RESIDENCE**

 **LA**

* * *

Mac's phone chimed as he stared out the window at the city lights in the dark as Bozer drove him home.

(He and Jack had just gotten home from a very tough mission in Somalia, where they'd been sent to seize or destroy a WMD that a Somali warlord had somehow gotten his hands on.)

(They'd taken an unauthorized detour to liberate a camp of child soldiers, which had tacked a couple of hours onto debrief, a trade-off he'd take any day.)

On autopilot and still haunted by the horrifying image of kids with empty eyes holding very battered AK-47s, Mac pulled his phone out and looked at the text from Beth on the screen. A small smile appeared on his face, which slowly grew wider.

Her shift had finished while he was stuck in debrief, and it seemed that she was now enjoying her quiet Tuesday night.

She'd sent him a selfie, in a light blue T-shirt with her hair in twin loose braids and grinning at the camera. She was hugging her brand-new sheep cushion to her chest with her free hand, the sheep's head poking out under her chin and its body obscuring the text on her shirt (he could just make out 'atoms' and 'everything').

There was another chime, and then another photo followed the first.

This one was of the cushion in her lap, over her pink-chequered pyjama pants, her baby-blue painted toenails just visible over the top of the fluffy mound.

(It really was excessively fluffy, but she seemed to like it that way.)

 _Thanks again, Mac. It's perfect for cuddling with after a long day!_

His smile widened.

(A little voice in his head pointed out that he could provide her with something – or rather, _someone_ \- much more pleasant to cuddle with than a stuffed sheep. Mac told it to shut up and pointed out that even if he could and would cuddle back and could and would give back-rubs, he was _not_ fluffy – the less said about his one attempt to grow a beard, the better - and rather bad at staying still, so that assertion really depended on her criteria for preferred cuddling partners.)

After a moment, Mac started typing out a reply.

 _I'm really glad you like it. Has he or she got a name? :P_

He got her reply only moments later, as Bozer pulled up at a red light.

 _Pythagoras! Or Py, for short._

He laughed out loud.

 _Of course_ Beth would name her sheep cushion cover Pythagoras, Py for short.

Her feelings towards pie (and pi, it was her favourite irrational number) were well-known.

(He didn't hate her puns anywhere near as much as he hated Jack's.)

(They were usually better.)

(Jack's were objectively _terrible,_ after all.)

(And they usually had to do with science. Science made everything better.)

(Besides, if he were honest…he didn't _actually_ hate Jack's puns, just like he didn't _actually_ hate Jack's complaining…)

Bozer, meanwhile, glanced at his BFF, looking all _besotted_ in his book, and grinned.

He couldn't wait to be Uncle Bozer.

* * *

AN: Of course, as always, Bozer jumps more than a little too far ahead…but how often has he been wrong? :P

All the items mentioned as being sold at the Queen Victoria Market are all things that I have seen be sold at the aforementioned market; we really do have some odd souvenirs for sale here…

And yes, I had to put in a little dig at Mac's beard in 3.01, Improvise. _The Path Not Taken_ isn't just AU plot-wise; Mac can't grow an atrocious beard, he can't grow one at all! :P


	5. Ice Cream

AN: As promised, we get a tiny little glimpse into the future here! That does mean spoilers for the future of _The Path Not Taken_ (not many spoilers, and not ones that should surprise anyone who has ever read another of my multi-chaps, but technically spoilers nonetheless).

* * *

 **PHOENIX FOUNDATION HEADQUARTERS**

 **SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

Matty walked into the conference room just as Mac concluded the _Esio Trot_ science lesson with something that could only be described as dramatic flourish.

Cassian was looking at the diagram Mac had drawn and patiently explained with a mixture of child-like curiosity and wonder.

(Clearly, Mac took after both of his parents. Ellen had been a wonderful and inspiring teacher.)

Jack, meanwhile, seemed to have dozed off a little but perked up when Mac finished talking about science (Matty supposed he couldn't be blamed given how many of Baby Einstein's science lessons he had to listen to in the field), got up, stretched and clapped his hands together with a grin.

'Now that Mr MacGyver and Miss Morgan and Dr Taylor's science class is done, who wants ice cream on me?'

* * *

 _Of course, the response was an enthusiastic yes._

 _Who doesn't love ice cream?_

 _Especially rocky road._

 _I did some math based on big data – like ice cream sales and thousands of product reviews – that proved that it was the superior flavour of ice cream._

 _So far, it hasn't convinced anyone._

 _I'm still working on it, don't worry._

* * *

 **JACK'S FAVOURITE ICE CREAM STORE**

 **LA**

* * *

'…Come on, Riley, have a taste! I promise you, it will _change your life!'_

Bozer held out his cup of hazelnut and mint choc-chip with strawberry sauce over the top to Riley, who was making a face.

She held up her own scoop of cookie dough in a waffle cone.

'I'll stick with this, thanks, Boze…'

He actually pouted.

'Come on! When have I ever let you down when it comes to food, Miss Davis?'

Sitting on the other side of Riley, Jill and Beth, both tucking into their own cups of ice cream (double chocolate fudge and blueberry pie, respectively) shared an amused glance as they watched Bozer and Riley and chatted. Jill pulled out her phone, and brought up a text from Alex that had both women giggling into their ice cream within seconds.

On Beth's other side, sitting next to her on one of the ice cream parlour's colourful pastel benches, Mac was regaling Cassian with the history of the waffle cone between bites of rocky road (in a waffle cone, of course), while Cassian listened and occasionally interjected with a question when his mouth wasn't full of birthday cake ice cream with extra sprinkles.

Diane sat on Cassian's other side, elegantly eating her cone of dulche de leche, while Jack, sitting next to her, indulged in good old-fashioned butter pecan and occasionally dared to try and steal some of Diane's while she was distracted. Matty, who was on Jack's other side and eating rum and raisin ice cream, kept slapping his hand and glaring at him.

* * *

 _It is a testimony to the power of ice cream's deliciousness that Jack kept trying, despite Matty's glares._

 _Seriously._

 _You guys know how scary she can be._

* * *

 **TWENTY-THREE YEARS LATER**

 **JACK AND DIANE'S NEW HOUSE**

 **JUST OUTSIDE OF LA**

* * *

The man who'd grown from the boy Cassian smiled fondly as he unpacked a box of carefully-packed pieces of art for his adoptive mother and the best father he'd ever had.

Jack and Diane had made the decision to move out of Jack's apartment and to a nice house a little way out of LA to better enjoy their retirement, now that the grandkids were in college, heading off to college within the next couple of years or even _done_ with college.

Carefully, he pulled out a drawing on green construction paper, his eyes widening as he recognized it.

That day at the ice cream parlour, the day he'd met Diane…

The day he'd started thinking that maybe, just maybe, he was part of a _family._

(Not just a secret or a burden or some kind of prisoner, even if his prison was very nice.)

He smiled, stroking the corner of it fondly.

He'd just put it down on the coffee table when Diane walked in, carrying a large box, and he immediately rushed over to help her with it, even as she shook her head with fond exasperation.

'I'm not frail yet.'

He put his hands up with a disarming smile that he'd picked up from Mac.

'I'm not saying you are, I just wanted to help.'

Diane shook her head again fondly, but let him help her with the box (which was _heavy_ ), before her eyes fell on his childhood drawing and her smile widened.

'That'll be a nice memory to share at our housewarming barbecue tonight.'

The whole family was going to be there that night to enjoy Bozer's incredible burgers.

(Beth had declared Jack could have _one,_ even with his cholesterol levels that now had to be monitored regularly and required medication.)

(Hedy had flown home for the weekend from college for the occasion, so that made it a very, very special one.)

He smiled.

'Honestly, I can't believe you kept it…'

Diane smiled knowingly.

'Of course I kept it. I knew it was special to you.'

He smiled a little wider, and leaned over to pull her into a side-hug.

'Thanks, Mom.'

They stood there in comfortable, loving silence for a beat, before Diane's smile turned more teasing and she turned to her adopted son.

'Now, is Annabelle coming tonight?'

His cheeks pinked a little, and he rubbed the back of his neck.

'Well, uh, yeah, but make sure everyone doesn't make a big deal of it, okay? We're still pretty new, and you know how the family can get…'

Diane snorted and somehow managed to make it an elegant, dignified sound.

'You two are not that new, it was past time you got your act together. And she already knows everyone.'

Oh, they were going to greet with her various permutations of _welcome to the family._

He knew it.

Especially Jack.

(That man had no sense of subtlety whatsoever, and lived for embarrassing his kids and grandkids.)

Well, that was family.

He wouldn't have them any other way.

AN: I did say it was a glimpse into the future! I never specified how far!

It's been a really, really tough day (the end of Honours year is tough – I've got a presentation, a thesis due-date and an oral exam all within the next three weeks!), but proof-reading and publishing some fluff did help!

(Yes, I'm aware I've just revealed that _The Path Not Taken_ 's universe has an aggressively happy ending. I really like aggressively happy endings, especially when real life can be tough and miserable and doesn't have said happy endings, so…apologies to those who have different preferences?)


	6. Yenta

AN: I told you, one day, this story would stop being all fluff and little substance…welcome to the first not-fluffy and substantial episode tag!

* * *

 **JAMES MACGYVER'S RESIDENCE**

 **SOMEWHERE IN LA**

* * *

Jack pulled up outside the mid-century bungalow.

Apparently, MacGyvers liked mid-century modern. Who knew?

He sighed and got out of his car, running a hand through his hair.

He should probably have done this a long time ago, but he'd had to be sure that it was worth stirring the pot, kicking the hornet's nest and opening the can of worms.

After Mac's birthday party and the prism collection, he'd known he had to do this now.

(He recognized that look in his partner's eyes.)

Jack strode up the path and had just raised his hand to knock on the front door when it opened.

James MacGyver stood on the other side, as neatly dressed as always, an eyebrow slightly raised.

'How did you find my address? And how did you know I'd be home?'

Jack gave a little smirk full of bravado.

'I'm a highly-trained covert operative. I have my ways.'

James's eyebrow rose a little more, and then he sighed.

'Riley. And Matilda.'

He opened the door more, gestured for Jack to come inside. He led the Texan into a living room with a slightly-worn, brown leather couch, which made Jack raise an eyebrow.

Apparently, tastes in interior decorating were also hereditary in the MacGyver line.

Jack plopped onto the couch, while James leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

'Why are you here, Jack?'

Jack took his time answering, spreading his hands wide like a storyteller.

'There comes a time in a man's life when he starts thinking 'bout having grandbabies to take to ball games…and to teach how to make a stun grenade out of a cardboard box, a stick of gum and a paperclip or two…'

James huffed out a sigh. He probably would have rolled his eyes if it wasn't beneath his dignity.

'Get to the point.'

'You MacGyvers really have no appreciation for good storytelling, do you?'

James sighed again, rubbing his temples briefly with a hand, and sat down in the armchair, apparently deciding that this was going to take a while.

Jack's expression, meanwhile, grew serious. Deadly serious.

'She's real smart, real pretty and she's got some spitfire in her.' He didn't need to specify who he was talking about. He knew James knew. 'Everyone knows our boy's got a type. And she started weeks after he quit, then took it back. Hell of a coincidence, ain't it?'

The accusation was clear.

Jack knew full well that any hiring decisions ultimately had to go through Oversight.

(Matty had worked around them from time-to-time – she'd managed to keep Bozer from being fired after the whole fiasco with Thornton and Chrysalis, after all – but he was still the man ultimately in charge.)

And he knew full well that James was perfectly capable of influencing his son's life behind the scenes. Pulling the strings.

Who was to say he hadn't had a hand in the decision to hire Bethany H. Taylor, M.D.?

After all, it really, really was a hell of a coincidence.

James's face gave nothing away.

'She was the best candidate for the position.'

His voice was utterly neutral.

It was a non-answer.

Jack told himself firmly not to get frustrated. That was probably what James was hoping would happen.

Still, he let _some_ frustration bleed into his voice.

Two could play this game.

'Tell me, yes or no, am I right she's got no clue? 'Cause you know as well as I do, if she's some kind of spy, meant to keep him in line or something…'

Jack would have to tell Mac the truth.

And Mac would quit again and probably run off to the other side of the planet, to a remote little village in Nigeria or something like that, and live out the rest of his life in said remote little village, as far away from his father's sphere of power and influence as possible.

'You really think so poorly of me?'

Jack crossed his arms.

'History ain't exactly on your side.'

Jack knew that he was being nuts and paranoid, but Mac had _major_ issues with his dad playing puppet-master over his life.

James gave a brief nod, at least acknowledging Jack's point.

'You really think so poorly of _her_? Or of Matilda?'

It was Jack's turn to nod, in acknowledgement of that point.

He was quite sure that he really did know Beth. And she would be a terrible spy, what with her tendency to have brain-mouth-filter-failures.

She lacked guile, in the same way that Mac and Bozer and Jill did.

(That maybe Riley and Jack and even Matty did too, to an extent.)

And there was no way that Matty would have let Oversight get away with a plot like this.

She'd have pointed Mac to the truth.

James swallowed, and was silent for a moment, before he leaned forward slightly and spoke, resting his elbows on his knees.

'I have always done what I've thought was best for Angus.'

Jack snorted, then caught his boss's eye, crossing his arms.

'And you've thought wrong a hell of a lot more times than you'll admit.'

James just let that one go.

Admitting he was wrong to his own son was one thing, admitting he was wrong to Jack was another.

'Dr Bethany Taylor works for the Phoenix because she is an exceptional doctor in several ways.' Jack didn't doubt that. Not in the slightest. She, like all the other Phoenix employees, had great strength and courage and a sturdy moral compass, and was really somebody special. Everyone who worked for the Phoenix was exceptional, in more than one way. They had to be. James paused for a long time, shifting a little in his seat, as if he were uncomfortable with what he was about to admit. 'If I saw additional...potential benefits granted by her employment, would you say I thought wrong?'

Jack had no answer for that.

After all, guys in their line of work very, very rarely got a shot at a fairytale ending. What with not being able to tell the truth to most of the population…

He'd been incredibly, implausibly lucky.

Who was he to deny Mac that?

And besides, he and Mac had been brought together by this man's meddling, and their friendship, their connection, that'd been all them.

The special something growing between Mac and the young doctor was all them too.

He'd bet that James's decision wasn't 100% free of agenda.

After all, if nearly all of Mac's friends-who-were-family and the woman he loved all worked for the Phoenix, why would he quit?

He'd miss them all too much, worry about not being there to protect them, drown in guilt if anything were to happen to them that he felt he could have prevented.

After another long moment of silence, James spoke again, looking and sounding far older than Jack had ever seen him before.

'Angus…Angus deserves all the happiness he can get.' He paused, speaking nearly to himself, rather than Jack, when he continued. 'And I promised Ellen.'

* * *

Jack's brow furrowed as he showed himself out, knowing not to overstay his welcome.

(Besides, James wasn't exactly the most pleasant of company.)

Maybe Beth's hiring wasn't partially some kind of pretty-creepy (especially considering that Oversight was Mac's _dad_ ) insurance policy.

Maybe it was partially some still-really-weird-and-kinda-creepy attempt at _atonement._

He shook his head.

MacGyvers really couldn't do anything the normal way.

* * *

AN: James has issues with boundaries. James also has issues with controlling his son's life. I've been planning this conversation ever since the start of _The Path Not Taken,_ and this isn't quite the end of it…stay tuned over the next couple of episodes and episode tags!

I'm pretty sure my take on James is more unpleasant and more manipulative than the version they have in canon, now. I based his entire characterization off the James MacGyver we saw in 2.23, MacGyver + MacGyver, and since then, I think they've made an effort to make him nicer and put genuine effort into rebuilding a relationship with Mac. I suspect the reason behind it in canon (at least characterization-wise, perhaps they also saw a lot of negative feedback on his character so changed it somewhat…) is that Mac running away to the other side of the world, ostensibly for life, knocked some sense into his thick skull and made him realize that he had to reach out to Mac and put a lot of effort into making up with him, and making it up to him, after everything he's done.

In my head, James has somewhat misinterpreted (due to his grief, his anger, his obsession with his job and his struggle to show and properly process emotion/affection and understand finer social nuance) a lot of Ellen's wishes, without her around to tell him he's doing it wrong. These include her wish for Mac to be as happy as can be and her belief that everyone can and should always keep learning. (Though in my head, Ellen and Beth would get along extremely, extremely well and James and Mac would be in a lot of trouble…and love every minute of it.)


	7. Sisterhood

AN: This picks up immediately after 3.17, Black to White. It will probably make no sense if you've yet to read it.

* * *

 **RILEY'S RESIDENCE**

 **LA**

* * *

Thirty-nine minutes after she'd sent that text to Jill and Beth, Riley padded out of her bedroom, in stylish geometric-print pyjama pants and a comfy T-shirt with a stylized motherboard on it that Bozer had given her for Christmas with her hair in a messy half-bun, half-ponytail monstrosity that kept it off her face, and opened her front door. Standing on the other side was Beth, wearing a soft-looking flannel dress over leggings with her hair in two braids and carrying a giant navy canvas tote bag.

The doctor gave a slightly awkward, but sad and sweet little smile, and held up her arms.

'Do you want a hug? The oxytocin might make you feel a little better…'

Riley just stepped forward and hugged her. Beth rubbed her back, and let her hold on as long as she wanted.

After she let go of the smaller woman, Riley ambled back over to the couch, rearranging some of the cushions absent-mindedly and pulling out a throw blanket from under the coffee table.

Meanwhile, Beth took off her boots and started unpacking her truly huge bag. She pulled out six Tupperware containers of mac'n'cheese (without kale), an insulated lunch box into which she'd packed no fewer than five pints of Ben & Jerry's along with two ice blocks, a Thermos that contained the horchata she'd made according to the recipe given to her by a med school friend, a Thermos that contained the best approximation of Bozer's secret-recipe special hot chocolate she could manage, a tightly-rolled set of PJs, her purse (which Riley knew contained not only the stuff you might expect a woman to carry in there– phone, wallet, tissues, lip balm, hand lotion etc. – but also a first aid kit, and a pretty good one too) and what looked like a mini mani-pedi kit with three colours of nail polish.

Riley just stared incredulously at the array of items that'd appeared on her kitchen counter.

(How in the world had Beth fit all of that in the bag, large as it was?)

The doctor noticed her looking as she finished putting the ice-cream in the freezer and gave a little shrug and a smile, half-sheepish, half-proud.

'I'm pretty good at packing…'

Riley looked at the pile of stuff again in disbelief.

'Yeah…I can see that.'

Beth pulled out a mug from one of the cupboards and poured a generous measure of hot chocolate into it, before passing the mug to Riley, who smiled in thanks and took a sip.

(It wasn't quite as good as Bozer's, but Beth made a great hot chocolate.)

She held up her neatly-rolled pyjamas.

'The PJs were a requirement for the evening, right?'

Riley gave a solemn little nod, a smile playing on the corners of her lips, and Beth smiled back and headed to the bathroom to change.

* * *

A couple of minutes later, Beth, now wearing light blue pyjama pants adorned with navy hearts and a T-shirt that said, 'Obey gravity. It's the law!', walked out of the bathroom, just as Riley opened the door for Jill, in yoga pants and a T-shirt and carrying a six-pack of Mike's Hard Lemonade and a family-sized bag of pretzels.

The blonde analyst grinned at the doctor.

'I love your T-shirt!'

Riley just shook her head with a fond, teasing little smile.

'Nerds.'

Jill put a hand on her hip and cocked it, raising an eyebrow.

'Said the pot to the kettle.'

* * *

 **THIRTY MINUTES LATER**

* * *

There were three empty bowls that'd once held mac'n'cheese on the coffee table, along with the lids to three bottles of Mike's Hard Lemonade and the opened packet of pretzels.

Jill, wearing a flannel PJ set with a unicorn print, the top open to reveal the purple tank-top she had on underneath, pointed very seriously at Beth.

(Favourite MCU movie was a very serious topic. One that merited not giving _Iron Man_ – which was playing in the background on Riley's TV – their full attention. )

' _The Avengers_ , of course!'

Riley pursed her lips in thought for a moment, before giving a very dry response.

'Not _Age of Ultron._ ' The other two made noises of agreement. ' _Ant-Man_ is pretty awesome…' She made a face. 'At least until I realized how much Kurt looks like a certain nemesis of Mac's…' She could see the moment the realization hit the other two women, who both made hilariously-similar faces of disgust. Jill tossed a cushion at her from the other end of the couch. From the nest she'd made for herself on the floor with a couple of cushions and the throw blanket, Beth narrowed her eyes at the dark-haired hacker. Riley just held up her hands. 'Hey, if I have to live with it, so do you.'

* * *

Beth sucked the last of the spoonful of Bourbon Pecan Pie ice-cream off her spoon, then took the cutlery out of her mouth and pointed at Riley with it.

'…Peter Parker has a seriously incredible T-shirt collection and is also adorable.'

The mention of Spider-Man's T-shirt collection brought a little laugh to Riley (of course Beth would say something like that, given her own science-joke T-shirt collection), but after taking another bite of Chocolate Therapy, she pointed back at the doctor with her own spoon.

'He's also kinda an idiot.'

Jill nodded, but felt compelled to add something after swallowing her mouthful of Cherry Garcia.

'He's a fifteen-year-old boy. They're all idiots at that age.'

(Jack's neighbour's son Thomas was a case in point.)

Beth swiped her spoon across the top of her pint of ice-cream, watching _Captain America: The First Avenger_ out of the corner of her eye as she replied.

(Apparently, even someone who had to have seen a lot of half-naked and naked males of the species – and some really fine specimens at that; Jill was right about them working with an uncommonly large number of attractive people – was not completely immune to the wonder that was shirtless Chris Evans.)

(Riley and Jill looked too, of course. Though there was a little _something_ in the blonde analyst's eyes that Riley was definitely not going to ask about.)

(She was sure Alex looked very good shirtless, but there were some things she'd really rather not know.)

'To be fair, most fifteen year olds, regardless of gender, are.'

Riley gave a little snort.

'Oh, yeah, I can tell you stories from when I was fifteen…'

* * *

As the closing credits for _Captain America: The First Avengers_ played, Beth and Jill were locked in an honestly pretty pointless (but highly amusing to Riley) debate.

'…well, yes, it's not a great film when you watch it the first time, but after you return to it after the sequels-'

'But that doesn't make it a great film when you watch it on its own! Ergo, it is not a great film-'

'It was never meant to stand alone, so-'

Riley, as she made her way back over from the kitchen with three warmed mugs of horchata, decided to intervene, before this got really out of hand.

'Well, if we're talking origin stories…how amazing was _Captain Marvel?'_

* * *

There were now three empty bottles of Mike's Hard Lemonade on the coffee table, and _The Avengers_ was playing in the background.

'…the concept of the nation-state is fundamentally flawed.'

'In the sense that you can divide every so-called nation into continually smaller nations?'

'I'm still not sold on the idea that the concept of the nation-state is responsible for much of the conflict in the world today; I'd argue that even prior to the existence of such a concept, people have always used the whole they're-different-from-us argument as a smokescreen and an excuse for conflict…'

'While really fighting over resources?'

'Exactly.'

* * *

'…He keeps stealing them!' Jill was holding a bobby pin between her thumb and her forefinger as she complained about Alex's bad habit. 'I bought a whole new box last month, and they're all gone!'

Beth and Riley winced in sympathy. Bobby pins inevitably went missing, but a whole box in a month? That was something else.

The doctor tilted her head a little to the left.

'Have you tried buying him his own supply?'

Jill nodded, rolling her eyes with very exasperated affection.

'He still prefers to steal mine.'

Riley, meanwhile, smirked teasingly and tossed the half-empty bag of pretzels at the brunette.

'You're going to be putting up with that…and worse, one day. Hopefully soon.' Beth blushed furiously and just took a large handful of pretzels, stuffing a couple into her mouth. Jill giggled, a teasing look on her own face, as Riley's smirk widened for a bit, before she pointed at the doctor. 'You know, you could stop waiting for Mac to stop being a stupid genius and just ask him out yourself. It's the 21st century!'

Jill nodded in agreement.

'You go, girl!'

(She was a little tipsy. She'd had two hard lemonades and not that much of the mac'n'cheese. Riley was either going to have to call Alex to come get her or Jill would be crashing on her couch.)

Beth shook her head.

'I can't-'

'You are an amazing, brilliant, strong, beautiful-'

Beth shook her head again, cutting Jill off.

'No, I really, really can't. Ethically…even taking a loose definition, I am sometimes his doctor…'

Riley's expression grew very serious.

'If you can't say yes, you need to let him know, before…'

She trailed off. It was probably too late to save Mac from being broken-hearted. Cage had been very right, he was further gone than he realized.

But, of course, she had to try. He was family.

Beth shook her head in a way that seemed gentle, smiling at Riley for a moment, something soft in her eyes, before her expression grew more serious.

'I would, I swear, if…' Her cheeks pinked again, even as she kept looking Riley in the eye, face still serious. '…well, if I had to say no.' She gave a slightly awkward shrug. 'I know it seems arbitrary and doesn't make much sense, but…I'm drawing the line at asking, initiating or…pursuing. The Phoenix is special. Normal hospital and medical rules can't apply. With the pressure and the secrets and the danger, we're family. And…and I know now, that's a good thing; it can't be wrong. Ergo, neither are my…' Her cheeks darkened more. '…feelings.' Riley hid a smile behind her hand. Beth was really far gone too. The doctor gave a half-shrug. 'And anyway…either way, I'm emotionally compromised. As Dr Farnham puts it, if I kept trying to keep my distance and said no, all I'd be doing is denying myself happiness.'

Riley nodded.

'Fair enough. You _are_ in an ethically difficult position.'

(And Mac really was a stupid genius, so this was going to take _ages._ )

(They'd probably go past adorable and into infuriating.)

(Maybe she _should_ help Bozer out with his plot to lock them in the Phoenix's evidence locker.)

(It was the only place that Mac had ever taken more than half an hour to escape from that they had access to.)

Jill held a hand out for the pretzels, which Beth passed to her.

'Seriously, you are really, really good at compartmentalizing. I couldn't do it.'

Beth ducked her head at the praise, then shook it, self-deprecatingly, even a touch awkwardly.

'It's part of our training…'

* * *

As the end-credits shawarma scene played, Riley and Jill were slumped across the couch, and Beth had curled herself into a little ball in her nest.

Jill raised her head.

'This was an awesome girls' night in.'

Beth nodded in agreement.

'We should really do this again.' She glanced at Riley sheepishly. 'Minus the whole post-break-up portion, of course, sorry, Riley.'

The dark-haired woman just smiled and nodded.

'Yeah. Thanks for coming, guys.'

Beth and Jill exchanged a glance, then spoke in unison.

'What are girlfriends for?'

* * *

AN: I had to write a girls' night in story, I really had to! And yes, Murdoc is played by the same guy who plays Kurt in _Ant-Man._ You have no idea how much I freaked out when I discovered that. And it was so weird watching _Ant-Man and the Wasp_ , seeing 'Murdoc' saying things like 'if it walks like duck and talks like duck, is duck' and being terrified of Baba Yaga.


	8. Belonging

AN: Slightly more crossover with _Scorpion_ in this compared to 3.18, SecDef to Grandpa. This is set prior to the start of 3.18, SecDef to Grandpa, for a change.

* * *

 **MACGYVER'S RESIDENCE**

 **LA**

* * *

Beth shook her head fondly as she was unanimously nominated by Bozer, Riley, Jack, Matty, Diane _and_ Cassian to go inform Mac that dinner was ready.

(He was in his room Skyping Valerie, a fourteen-year-old child prodigy from his hometown of Mission City that he mentored – Beth had met her over Skype last time, and Valerie was brilliant and adorable and reminded her quite a bit of herself when she'd been that age, just with a greater love and affinity for engineering.)

She knocked on his bedroom door.

'Come in.'

Mac's voice sounded rather flat, which made her brow furrow with concern.

Had something happened to Valerie?

Surely if something had, Mac would have come out and told them, recruiting their help to make things better, however they could?

Beth opened the door and slipped inside.

Mac looked up at her, looking like someone had stolen all his toasters, and disparaged his favourite leather jacket, his mother, paperclips and duct-tape all in one breath.

The worried look grew more prominent.

'What's wrong, Mac? Is Valerie alright?'

He sighed and gestured to his laptop screen.

'Remember how I told you Valerie came down to LA for that program at CalTech last week?' Beth nodded. Mac had managed to find a few hours to have lunch with her and her dad and take them on a brief tour while they were in LA. He sighed again, the _someone-stole-my-toasters_ look returning with a vengeance. 'She met someone. A _boy_.'

That was said with the same distaste as _anti-vaxers_ or _knock-off WD-40._ Beth hid a smile, and patted him on the shoulder gently.

'What's his name?'

'Ralph. He is also fourteen, nearly fifteen, and a student at CalTech.' She understood the implications. 'He is apparently very awesome, understands her weird and seems to like it. He has an incredible mother, and a stepfather with an IQ of 197 and several other adopted genius aunts and uncles.'

Beth smiled.

She would have loved to have met someone like that (and their family) when she was fourteen, nearly fifteen.

Those teenage years were hard.

They were hard for everyone, but worse when you were _different._ When you felt like you didn't _belong._

She knew she'd been really lucky. She had a brilliant engineer for a father, and a chemistry professor for a mother. West Lafayette, where she'd grown up, had been full of the children of academics and the like.

But still, there'd been many a time when she'd felt alone, even with all of those blessings.

And there were always bullies.

From what she'd heard, Mac had had it far worse. His mom had died when he was five, his dad had abandoned him when he was ten for eighteen years, and then there was Donnie Sandoz and his gang…

She knew he had to understand what having a friend (or potentially more) like Ralph meant to Valerie.

He simply cared so much for the girl that he was going a little, well, honestly, _Jack_ on him.

(Riley complained frequently – albeit fondly – about Jack's overprotectiveness.)

Carefully, checking that she wouldn't disturb anything, Beth perched on the edge of Mac's desk.

* * *

Mac looked up from where he was glaring at his laptop screen as if it was this Ralph and he was interrogating him about his intentions when Beth sat down on his desk. She glanced at the empty bowl that usually held paperclips next to her and gave a fond, exasperated smile (he'd used them all and forgotten to buy more – organized and good at planning, he was not), then raised her hands to her hair and started pulling bobby pins from it, letting the ends of the two French braids that she'd pinned up around her head fall free. She dropped the brass-bronze bobby pins into the dish, and gave a slightly sheepish little smile. Mac smiled back at her, and reached for a couple of the pins, fiddling with them to give his hands something to do.

There was comfortable silence for a moment, save for the sound of Beth's bobby pins falling into the dish and Mac picking them up again, one by one.

(There were a lot – fifteen, precisely – in her hair.)

Eventually, she broke it, speaking gently but firmly, with conviction.

'It means a lot, to have someone who's like you, someone who makes you feel like you aren't alone, that you _belong_ …especially at that age.'

He nodded in agreement. They both had had that experience and knew what they were talking about. Then, he shrugged, her bobby pins forming some kind of interlinked structure in his hands.

'I know, but…she's not even fifteen.'

That was said with quite a bit of daddy-on-the-porch-with-a-shotgun in it.

Or rather, given that it was Mac, daddy-on-the-porch-with-a-stun-gun-or-a-death-ray-that-doesn't-actually-cause-death-or-a-DIY-lie-detector.

Beth reached over and poked him in the sternum with a little more force than usual.

' _I_ had a boyfriend when I was fifteen, and he was two years older than me.' Mac told that little voice in his head that wanted to know more about this boyfriend to shut up. He was clearly an ex. No longer relevant. And it'd been _thirteen years_. Beth shrugged a little sheepishly. 'And um, well, apologies for opening old wounds might be in order, but…didn't fourteen-year-old you pine over your chem lab partner, lose a bet to Bozer and then have to ask her to Prom, leading to her turning you down coldly and revealing that, very cruelly, she was only nice to you so you'd do all the work in class _and_ her homework?'

Mac rubbed the back of his neck, giving a wry smile.

'Boze told you about Darlene Martin.' He smiled, reaching out to pat her knee. 'And you don't need to apologize, I got over her years and years ago.'

Beth smiled back, patting his hand gently, before she hopped off the desk and gestured to the door with her head.

'The hot dogs are ready, we should get back out there before…'

Her cheeks flushed a little and she made a vague gesture with her hands.

He nodded in agreement, even as his ears burned slightly, and got up from his desk chair.

* * *

 _I know. I know. I know._

 _Trust me, there is nothing you can say that A, hasn't already been said to me, and B, I haven't told myself._

 _It's just…timing is everything._

 _The right moment hasn't happened yet._

 _And I am enjoying this in-between, you know._

 _I'm as sure as I can be that she is too._

 _So what's the harm of taking it slow?_

 _It's just kinetics, not thermodynamics._

* * *

He stashed her interlinked bobby pins in his pocket.

You never knew when they'd come in handy.

* * *

AN: Mac, you're running out of excuses…though there's a touch of foreshadowing there for future events. Stay tuned!

And yes, I shall always ship Ralph/Valerie. And pretend that Walter and Paige finally did get together for good and have a stable, happy, low-drama relationship sometime in the future of the _Scorpion_ timeline.


	9. Spitfire

AN: This will not make any sense unless you've read the latest chapter of _The Path Not Taken._ It picks up four days after that ends, but deals with events and revelations from that chapter.

* * *

 **BETH'S RESIDENCE**

 **LA**

* * *

Four days after he'd made that mental note to reinforce her coffee table, Mac and Beth sat on the floor of her living room, the coffee table upended in front of them. As Beth held a metal bracket he'd made that very morning from scraps he'd had lying around in place, Mac screwed it to the table using the slightly odd-looking drill he'd brought with him.

(He'd gotten it for a steal at a garage sale, since it didn't actually work. He'd since fixed it, but his fix had made it look a bit like a steampunk laser gun, according to Bozer.)

(Mac had no idea what a steampunk laser gun was supposed to look like, but took his best friend's word for it.)

Then, they sat back on their haunches. Mac put down his drill and shook the bottom of the table with considerable force.

He made a satisfied noise.

'There. It should, in theory, hold…' His face scrunched up a little in concentration. '…a six-month old baby elephant, but I wouldn't recommend testing that.'

Beth giggled.

A six-month-old baby elephant would weigh about 570 pounds.

(Which was likely far more weight than her coffee table would ever be expected to hold.)

(A year ago, she'd have said it would _never_ have to hold that much.)

(Then she'd met Mac.)

'I don't think that'll be an issue; I'm not in the habit of inviting juvenile pachyderms over for dinner.'

'Well, if you ever _do_ have one around…'

'I will make sure to invite you. And keep it off the coffee table.'

Together, they righted the coffee table, and Mac put his drill and random bits-and-bobs he'd brought over that he'd thought might be useful back in his bag, before turning to her again.

'I owe you a story.'

He didn't need to specify _what_ story.

After all, four days (or rather, nights) ago, he, his dad and Jack had shown up on her doorstep, his father bleeding out.

She'd finally learned that his dad was _not_ a scientist and an inventor who worked for DARPA, but instead Oversight.

Their Oversight.

(That had been quite the shock. She'd looked a little bit like she wanted the Earth to swallow her whole, but also rather unrepentant. It'd been an interesting expression.)

That made everything she knew about him and his dad (his dad leaving when he was ten, their radio silence and estrangement for eighteen years, the recent reunion and the fact that they were working on rebuilding their relationship, but it didn't always go well) far more complicated.

Made it clear that there was more of a story there.

Beth reached out and put a hand on his forearm.

'You don't have to tell me, I mean, it's clearly not…well, it's not exactly pleasant memories for you, and I've got the gist of it, I think…'

He gave a little smile, eyes meeting hers.

'I want you to know.'

She smiled back, and patted his arm gently, before getting up.

'I'll make us some hot chocolate.'

* * *

 **JAMES MACGYVER'S RESIDENCE**

 **LA**

* * *

James, after checking the peephole, opened his front door to find Beth standing on the other side, with fierce, protective anger in her eyes.

He took a step back, letting her into his home.

This was not a conversation he wanted to have on his doorstep.

She tilted her chin up and took a deep breath.

'Mac told me the whole story.'

That protective anger in her eyes only seemed to get stronger. There was a touch of a threat behind it.

James raised his brows.

'I'm your boss.'

Beth nodded.

'And that's why I'm at your house when we're both off-duty, Jim.' She paused. 'You're the father of someone that I care about very much, who has hurt him terribly. And…and I think that sometimes, you still do hurt him. I know your job is hard; you have to make hard decisions, and there are secrets you have to keep from Mac, but…' She narrowed her eyes at him, standing up very straight. It was surprisingly threatening. Maybe Angus' feelings weren't the only reason why he listened to her. 'If you ever _really_ hurt him again, like you did when he was a kid…you will find yourself subjected to every single uncomfortable and/or unpleasant medical examination I can think of.'

The two of them stared at each other for a long moment, before James nodded, very seriously.

'I will do everything I can to avoid hurting Angus again.'

That was the best promise he could give her.

With what seemed to be an internal sigh, Beth nodded in response and acceptance.

Then, her expression shifted into something that was very much 'medical professional'.

'We also need to discuss the fact that you left before I gave you medical clearance.' She narrowed her eyes at him again. 'I assume that you are well aware of the dangers of infection and sepsis, the recovery time required for hypovolemia, and the consequences of compromised healing?'

James sighed.

'I'm sure Angus told you, I had an extremely important meeting to attend.' He paused. 'A doctor's note would not have gotten me out of it.'

Her eyes narrowed yet again. This time, her ire didn't seem to be directed at him, but instead at who he was sure she was thinking of as Oversight's Oversight.

'That's _unacceptable_.'

From the look on her face, he knew she was going to talk to Matilda.

He actually felt sorry for the powers-that-be.

(They had no idea what was about to hit them.)

Then, she started herding him towards his living room by sheer force of will. James looked down at her as he nonetheless obediently walked into said room.

(She didn't leave him much choice.)

'What are you doing?'

(He did _know_ what she was doing. He was just…surprised.)

Beth pointed at the couch, and he sat, as she put down her bag and explained, as if it was the most obvious, matter-of-fact thing in the world, with an awful lot of exasperation in her voice.

(He probably had Angus to blame for a good deal of that exasperation.)

'I need to check your wound to ensure that there are no signs of infection and that it's healing properly.' She paused, looking up at him with that narrow-eyed look once again. 'And that you haven't torn any of your stitches.' She pulled some sterile dressings out of her bag. 'Shirt off, please…'

* * *

Twenty minutes and a couple of _Dora the Explorer_ Band-Aids over a fresh dressing on his abdomen later, James walked into his bedroom, and pressed firmly on several particular books, in a particular order. There was a popping noise, and then he removed a few books, setting them aside, and opened a secret compartment built into his wall.

He pulled out a well-worn, leather-bound photo album, and with a soft smile, opened it to a random page.

Both leaves showed photos of Ellen.

The one on the left was a photo of her in a little coffee shop on their honeymoon in Paris. The one on the right had her sitting on their couch at home, eight months pregnant with Angus, looking every bit as beautiful as she had in a pretty dress in Paris, and eating a giant bowl of rocky road ice-cream.

(She'd craved that incessantly when she was pregnant. It was also Angus' favourite ice-cream flavour. He really needed to see if the literature showed any causation regarding that.)

(She had tried, unsuccessfully, to get him to destroy that photo. She'd hated it, claiming that she looked like a beached whale. He strongly, strongly disagreed with that. It was simply objectively untrue.)

(The so-called 'miracle of life' that'd given them their son was the closest thing to an actual miracle he'd ever seen.)

James smiled a little wider.

'You'd have really liked her, Ellen.' His smile grew more wry, though no less affectionate, loving. A touch wistful. 'Angus and I would have been in so much trouble…'

His memory of her just smiled that little smile of hers at him, knowing and teasing and full of love.

 _And you'd have loved every minute of it._

* * *

AN: One day, I really, really have to get around to writing that fic in which Ellen is alive and she and Beth do indeed get along like a house on fire…and the MacGyver men are absolutely screwed but are perfectly happy about it.

(I'll probably wind up putting it in to the Christmas fic I'm planning…)

I hope you guys liked this; it was actually the second episode tag planned out (after one still to come…). Please don't ask me why Beth and Mac are talking about elephants as dinner guests at the start; I have no idea aside from the fact that they simply insisted I write it that way!


	10. Oxytocin

AN: This will not make any sense if you haven't read 3.21, Mac to Murdoc, in _The Path Not Taken_ , so please go read that before you come back, if you haven't already! :)

* * *

 **MACGYVER'S RESIDENCE**

 **LA**

* * *

At 2:30 am, Mac, clad in his pyjamas (an old T-shirt from the annual MIT Solar Car Competition, and navy-blue chequered pyjama pants), forced himself to get up from his position on the floor in his entryway, staring at his front door.

This level of paranoia was bothering even him.

(He was only not currently upgrading the security system at his place, again – not to mention Beth's, Riley's, Jack's, and Diane and Cassian's; Matty likely wouldn't let him touch hers, which was admittedly already DARPA's state-of-the-art, highly-classified system, and his dad would handle his own – because he didn't want to disturb their sleep.)

(They all needed it.)

Instead, he paced along the corridor and pressed his ear to Bozer's door in the least creepy way possible, listening for a few seconds to the tell-tale, familiar sign of his best friend's light snoring. Then, he walked into the living room, where Jack was snoring loudly on the couch, while Riley was sprawled out on the air mattress, fast asleep.

After that, he padded over, as quietly as he could, to his slightly-ajar bedroom door and peeked inside.

Beth was also fast asleep, looking very peaceful and young, and very small in his admittedly large bed.

(She didn't take up much of it at all, since she wasn't very big. She also didn't sprawl or stretch out, as if she was used to sleeping in a far more compact space.)

(She had, however, somehow stolen the other pillow in her sleep and was curled around it, cuddling it to her torso.)

(He was suddenly irrationally and unreasonably jealous of his own pillow.)

He forced himself to stop watching her sleep (it was creepy, though he thought that the impulse he had to not let her out of his sight – which he was trying very hard to control as best as he could – was reasonable and acceptable considering the events of the day), instead plonking himself down on the floor next to the door, staring down the hallway.

He lost track of time, a thousand-yard stare taking over his eyes, absent-mindedly toying with a couple of paperclips that he'd grabbed from one of his paperclip bowls and Beth's bobby pins, which he'd apparently stolen at some point.

* * *

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a whimper that sent him flashing back to that horrifying video call at the Phoenix, followed by a cry that was almost a scream.

He sprung up off the ground, and immediately ran into his bedroom, ignoring the protests of his left calf so completely he didn't realize that they were even occurring, crouching down by the side of the bed as Beth sat up, breathing hard, eyes not quite focused.

On autopilot, he reached out for her hand. Her skin was pale and clammy. He squeezed gently, keeping his voice quiet and as reassuring as he could make it.

'Beth? You're safe, I promise, it's just a nightmare…'

She glanced over at him when he started speaking, eyes focusing. A moment later, she started taking slow, deep breaths, calming herself down.

She managed a little smile at him.

'Thanks.'

It was such a little thing, especially considering what she'd gone through in the last twenty-four hours.

Pushing away those feelings of guilt that threatened to overwhelm him (she'd insist on defending him from them, and he should definitely be the one doing the comforting, not her), Mac squeezed her hand again and gestured vaguely in the direction of the bathroom.

'You want to take a shower?'

It'd help get rid of that clammy feeling. Besides, showers were comforting.

Beth nodded, tossing off the covers and getting out of bed. She headed for the bathroom, while he went over to his closet to grab her a change of clothes.

(Clean, fresh clothes would help too.)

He pulled out an old MIT T-shirt, the softest flannel shirt he could find and a pair of his pyjama pants, before sitting down at his desk and grabbing some paperclips from the bowl and pinning up the pant legs so Beth wouldn't trip over them.

* * *

A minute later, Mac knocked on the door of the bathroom.

'I got you a change of clothes…'

The door opened slightly, and making sure to look the other way, Mac passed her the bundle of clothing, before heading to the kitchen and grabbing the block of single-origin Guatemalan chocolate that Bozer had hidden away (he figured his best friend would forgive him) and starting to make Bozer's secret-recipe hot chocolate.

(He'd known the secret for years; he simply pretended that he didn't, since it made Bozer so happy and proud.)

(He figured Beth would keep his secret.)

* * *

He was just ladling out hot chocolate into two mugs while sitting on a stool at the counter (he didn't want a scolding, especially when he knew it'd take a lot out of her, surely, to be doctor-y right now), when Beth padded out of the bathroom. She'd changed the line of bandages that went down her throat and halfway down her sternum, and his estimates had been correct, because the paperclip-secured ends of his pyjama pants just reached her ankles.

She gestured at the bandages, a little bit sheepishly.

'I rummaged in your medicine cabinet…'

Her voice trailed off a little shakily at the end, and he just held out his arms. Beth stepped into them, and he hugged her tightly, tucking his chin over her shoulder and rubbing her back in a way that was hopefully soothing.

They stayed like that for so long that they'd probably have gotten a lot of teasing if anyone else was awake.

Afterwards, he nudged a mug of hot chocolate towards her, waiting for her to take a few sips and taking a mouthful himself from his own mug before speaking.

'Do you want to talk about it?'

She stared at the drink in her hands for a beat.

(The hot chocolate was the same colour as her eyes, a currently-useless-and-unhelpful part of his brain supplied.)

'You…you were a little late, and Murdoc, well…'

She trailed off, making a vague gesture, seemingly not able to look up at him, and put down her mug, far too shaken.

He had a very sudden and very strong urge to obtain the location of Murdoc's prison (by any means necessary, though he had a sneaking suspicion he might be able to get it out of his father – not _Oversight_ , but specifically James MacGyver, beloved husband of Ellen MacGyver, nee Jackson), break into it and put the assassin six feet under.

He forced that back into a locked box in his mind, swallowing the lump in his throat and staring at the bandages along hers.

'I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry…'

Words failing him, he just reached out to hug her again.

(Beth tucked her head into his chest, taking deep breaths.)

(Mac still smelled faintly of WD-40, motor oil and/or other assorted hydrocarbons, despite having had a shower a few hours ago and presumably not having gone near any of those substances in the intervening time.)

(It really didn't bother her, probably a side-effect of having grown up with a chemist for a mom – lab smells tended to stick – and a dad who didn't just consider engineering his occupation, but also a hobby, with a busy workshop in the backyard and an insistence that there were always at least two cans of WD-40 in the household.)

(In fact, it was oddly soothing.)

When they let go of one another, feeling a little better, Beth picked up her hot chocolate mug again, as Mac looked down, looking obviously guilt-ridden.

'I…I won't always be able to protect you.' He said it in a way that made it sound as if he'd actually done her wrong. Really wrong. He managed to look up, meet her eyes. 'I will defend you with everything I have, I promise, but-'

Beth put her free hand over his, squeezing gently.

'That is all anyone can ask of you, Mac.'

He stared at her, voice small when he spoke.

'Sometimes…it doesn't feel like enough.'

She nodded, expression full of understanding, taking another sip of hot chocolate before she spoke. She started tracing figures-of-eight on the back of his hand with her thumb, a soothing action.

(He was pretty sure it was also an unconscious action.)

'My MSF mentor, Chris, said to me when we were in Syria that you couldn't save everyone. You could only try as you hard as you can, and that had to be enough.' She paused, letting go of his hand and raising hers to his cheek. 'Your _everything_ is enough, Mac. Knowing you… _more_ than enough.' _For me._ It sounded rather like a promise or a vow or an oath. She let her hand drop to poke him hard in the sternum, expression shifting to something fierce, determined, insistent, as she narrowed her eyes at him. 'If you ever dare to break up with me in an _extremely_ misguided attempt to protect me, Angus MacGyver, you will find yourself subjected to every uncomfortable and/or unpleasant medical examination I can think of.' He didn't point out that he'd yet to ask her out. It was far beyond a moot point. Her voice was gentler when she spoke again. 'Firstly, Murdoc clearly considers our actual relationship status irrelevant, and I don't see why The Ghost or The Organization or Dr Popovich or Jonah Walsh or the like would think differently.' It was, more or less, the same thing Dr Farnham had told her when it became abundantly clear that there was something between her and the Phoenix's star agent. The emotions (and the associated risks – to her professionalism or to her safety respectively) were already there and weren't going to just go away; all they'd be doing was denying themselves happiness. 'Secondly…I have my eyes wide open, and I understand what I'm seeing.' She paused, thinking for a moment, seeking out how to best articulate what she meant. 'I chose to train in emergency medicine. I went to Syria with MSF. I became support personnel for covert operatives.' She reached up again with both hands, her hot chocolate mug long discarded, cupping his face in her hands, locking eyes with him, like she really, really wanted him to understand something. 'I am not a woman who chooses easy or safe.'

That sounded rather like a promise or a vow or an oath, too.

 _Healthcare is the most violent non-law-enforcement industry in the USA. And an ER is the most dangerous place to be inside a hospital. 29% of hospital shootings occur in emergency departments._

 _Beth has horror stories._

 _The double-tap airstrike – a particularly abhorrent warfare tactic designed to target neighbours, family and first responders who rush to the scene of the first airstrike – is commonplace in Syria._

 _I'll never forget the story she told me under that building last Christmas._

And he knew Matty would have made sure she was aware of the risks of joining the Phoenix, even just as a doctor, even before personal relationships with field agents entered into the equation.

(Look at what had happened to Jill when the Phoenix was attacked.)

Besides, Beth was more than clever enough (and had seen enough) to know that was the case.

He stared back at her for a long moment (just like his dad and Jack, she was right – as she so often was, a not-so-little voice in his head quipped), then gave a little nod that felt like a promise and turned his head to press a kiss to her palm to seal that promise.

That made her smile, and her cheeks pink slightly as the smile widened.

After a very nice, very long moment, she let her hands drop, and poked him in the chest again, looking rather doctor-y.

(He was going to have to get used to her pretty rapid shifts from _Beth_ to _Lil' Doc_ or somewhere in-between.)

(He was looking forward to the process.)

'You haven't slept, have you?'

He probably looked pretty awful. He'd been up for twenty-eight hours straight, and most of those hours had been difficult, to say the absolute least.

He sighed.

'I _can't_.'

He really couldn't.

If he did, he just knew he'd see her back in Murdoc's clutches, his traitorous mind filling in the blanks suggested by Murdoc's words, his threats. He'd see himself squeezing the life out of the assassin (out of _Cassian's father_ , another traitorous voice supplied).

Beth made a noise of sympathy. She seemed to understand, and reached up to cup his face in her hands again, though she spoke firmly and logically, mostly _Doc._

'As you well know, sleep deprivation will compromise your ability to do your job, not to mention has severe health consequences. At some point, I'll have no choice but to give you something to make you sleep.' Her expression softened, shifted, though her voice was no less strong and sure. 'I'll be fine, with some time, support and a few appointments with Dr Lau.' Dr Lau was the Phoenix's resident shrink, hired in the same hiring spree as Beth. She paused, very deliberately, her voice shifting a little, growing quieter, like she was discussing a secret, though it was even fuller of conviction, if that were possible. 'And you stopped. _He_ wouldn't have.'

Despite his gargantuan vocabulary, despite the thousands of thoughts that were drifting through his mind as usual, he couldn't think of what to say in response to that, so just turned his head to kiss her palm again, hoping that the gesture said more than words.

She smiled again, then dropped her hands and grabbed his right wrist, starting to tug him back to his room.

'What-'

'You need to sleep, and if that is not possible, at least lie down and rest. An armchair is no place to do that properly, we are adults, you have an extremely spacious bed and I assume you'd rather share with me than Bozer.' They were back in his room now. She closed the door behind her with her foot, then tugged him over to the bed, let go of him, pulled the covers back and lay down. When he made to lay down _over_ the covers, she sighed and rolled her eyes in a very fondly exasperated way. 'We've known each other nearly a year. We've been stuck in an elevator, twice, _and_ under a building together. I spent Christmas with your family. I have been kidnapped by your arch-nemesis. You showed up at my place asking for my help in the middle of the night. I'm pretty sure our friends are plotting to lock us in the evidence locker together because they think we're taking far too long and need an intervention.' She smiled wryly. 'I think we've reached the stage in our relationship where we can share a bed, just for sleeping.'

 _She has a point._

 _If this was a movie, well…you know._

 _If this was a movie made by Bozer, I think I'd have a diamond ring – which I'd somehow made myself – hidden in my sock drawer, and we'd be running off to Vegas tomorrow and would be married by a Bill Nye impersonator by early afternoon._

 _Sometimes, I really do wonder how this is my life._

Without any further argument, he got under the covers, and they arranged themselves so that they both lay on their sides, facing one another, a good foot-and-a-half between them, his hand over hers, fingers on her pulse point.

(The physical contact, even chaste and innocent like this, was extremely reassuring, as was the steady beat of her heart.)

'Good night, Mac.'

'Night, Beth.'

She closed her eyes, and it wasn't long before she fell asleep, breathing and heartbeat slowing.

He was awake for a lot longer than that, idly tracing random things on her wrist, stopping every now and then to just monitor the beat of her heart, reassure himself.

He got through drawing the first one hundred digits of pi, one hundred digits of phi and the first fifty digits of Planck's constant on her skin.

His eyes drifted closed as he started the Periodic Table.

He lost track somewhere around zinc.

* * *

When he woke up, having slept a completely peaceful and, as far as he could tell, dreamless, sleep, Mac discovered that they'd shifted while asleep, and he was now half-curled-around and half-flung-protectively-over Beth.

(She was still sleeping peacefully and had a hand on the pillow under his head. Apparently, she was a bit of a pillow thief.)

(Somewhere in his mind, a rather gleeful voice – which Mac, very distracted, did not really hear – made a note to buy more pillows.)

(And not the really cheap ones that he liked to use for science every now and then either.)

He let himself enjoy the closeness for a very strict ten seconds, before shifting away and off her, doing his best to not disturb her.

It didn't really work, because when he raised himself up on an elbow in preparation for sitting up properly, she stirred, eyes opening and blinking blearily in the low light that filtered in through the blinds.

It took her a moment to orient herself, and then she smiled up at him, sweet and slow and affectionate and sleepy.

It was _adorable._

 _She_ was adorable, even with sleep-mussed hair (and not in the Hollywood way, in the real way), sleep in her eyes, and (judging by the taste in his own mouth – they'd neglected to brush their teeth before going to sleep the night before) likely unusually unpleasant morning breath, plus a line of bandages down her throat and disappearing under his shirt.

He could absolutely get used to waking up this way.

(Later, he'd blame the lack of sleep for what came out of his mouth.)

'Would you like to go out for bowling and dinner?'

Beth blinked up at him twice, suddenly very awake.

'Are you asking me out?'

His brain caught up with his mouth.

 _In bed, in pyjamas, your hair a mess, with terrible morning breath, just after she's been kidnapped by your arch-nemesis…is not a good time to ask a woman out._

 _My grandfather would have my hide._

 _Well, I guess I've never been very good with rules anyway, so…sorry, Grandpa._

With a sheepish grin, he nodded.

'Uh…yeah.'

That made Beth giggle, and she nodded, grinning herself.

'I'd love to.' She gestured to the door with her head. 'But I think we should have breakfast first…and possibly deal with the vultures…'

There was a clattering sound that sounded an awful lot like a glass hitting the wood floors just outside Mac's bedroom door.

Mac groaned. Beth raised her brows, and muttered something under her breath about how she shouldn't be surprised in the slightest, sounding fondly exasperated.

He glanced apologetically over at her.

'Welcome to the family.' She already was a part of the family, but she'd probably just been 'upgraded' in Bozer's intricate family hierarchy. 'I promise my revenge on Jack and Boze will be suitably diabolical.'

 _It will also be humorous, for the lady's entertainment, of course._

 _My grandfather did raise me right._

* * *

AN: As you can probably guess, this was the first 'episode tag' I planned out. I hope you guys enjoyed this pile of hurt/comfort/fluff/romance with a touch of humour! And yes, Mac and Beth's relationship is not really in the right order (though it isn't exactly backwards either), and Beth's list of things that have happened to them is a bit of a dig at romance tropes, as well as myself. And no, they will not be running off to Vegas to be married by a Bill Nye impersonator (I don't think those exist…), sorry to anyone who was hoping for that…

Weirdly enough, I think my favourite line in this entire thing is 'Welcome to the family. I promise my revenge on Jack and Boze will be suitably diabolical.' The entire ending section was never supposed to have been there in the first place (when I planned this out, it was meant to end with Mac falling asleep), but it just sort of insisted on writing itself…


End file.
